Forever Yours
by morganaoflocksley
Summary: Set after The Hollow Men, before the Epitaphs. Spoilers for all of Season 1 and 2. Topher finds a letter addressed to him on Claire's desk. Rated M for future chapters, just in case.
1. Chapter 1: The Letter

Disclaimer: I don't, unfortunately, own anything.

Topher was back in her office. He'd just gone for a wander, while the others were sorting out what to do next. Now he was here, though, it was obvious. Where else would he be? Then he noticed the small envelope sitting on Claire's desk, with one word written in her small, perfect handwriting: _Topher. _He flipped it over and opened it carefully, though his hands were shaking.

_Topher,_

_You might not ever find this, you might be dead before then, I might be dead before then. But I wanted this to be known; maybe when the world is sorted out, it will be found by archeologists:_

_It took until you were gone to realize. I couldn't sort out anything until I was far away from your awful smell (your doing, I know, and I understand.) I needed to be in the fresh air, I needed to be able to _think_. I have thought, and this is my conclusion:_

_You made me. That should hold some kind of significance. You could have made me anything you wanted. You could have made me love you. But you didn't. Which, I think, is the reason I do. You didn't choose someone for me to love. You let me decide, which was the kindest thing you could, considering you couldn't let me into the outside world. _

_And you should know about Bennett. It was part of my programming, that's true, but looking back, I feel like I could have stopped it. But I didn't, because it made me so _mad_ that you had chosen her. Well, at the time, I wasn't sure what I was feeling. And I want you to know that I am extremely sorry, and have no justification. All I can say is that I love you._

_I love you, and I'm sorry. _

_Before I left the Dollhouse, I updated my imprint. I left it in the panel. If you find me as Whiskey, bring me back. Please. But please, only bring me back as me, not in another body. And maybe… tweak the smell? _

_Forever yours, _

_Claire._

Topher slid away the panel, and found the imprint marked Claire 2.0. He left it there, and slid the panel back, so no outsiders could find it. It was probably safest here. After all, if they wanted to bring Claire back, they were going to have to come back here anyway. He folded the letter carefully, put it back inside the envelope, and stuffed the whole thing in his pocket, and went back to find the others.

Unsurprisingly, they had made for the kitchen, and were feasting on the non-perishables stored there. As he was walking towards them, Adelle spoke:

"Find anything interesting on your travels?"

Topher replied "I know what we're going to do next."

Echo and Priya looked at him, puzzled. Tony went right on munching away at his crackers, until he realized that the others had stopped. Then he too turned to look at Topher.

"We're finding Dr. Saunders. And we're bringing her back."

I'm really bad at writing long first chapters. They are ALWAYS too short. I promise the next one will be much longer.


	2. Chapter 2: Vitals

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

It took about two days to get the Active equipment up and running again. Two days, and in that time Topher got about half an hour of sleep. He knew he should sleep, but every time he lay down on his old bed in the server room, he itched to get back up and keep working. He needed to find Claire. Hopefully she had had enough sense to keep the tracker in her neck. She wanted them to find her, didn't she? He needed to be able to see her vitals on the screen, so he could know that she was safe. But the dust had settled into some of the servers, and some of the screens were cracked.

But finally, he cracked it. All at once the system came online and the screen lit up along with Topher's face. He could see her. Well, he couldn't actually physically see her, but he saw that all her body functions were working, although the brain activity wasn't particularly fast. She could be sleeping. She could be Whiskey. She could be unconscious.

And what's more, she was in L.A. Considering she could have been anywhere in the world, Topher considered this a downright blessing. He couldn't wait to tell the others. Yet he stared at the screen, just watching, not hoping for signs of activity, as he knew the best he could hope for was sleep, but just… watching. Later, when finally his need to sleep overcame him, he looked at the time and realized he had been staring at Claire's vitals for over an hour. He went into the server room and brought out his blanket, and slept on the floor next to the monitor.

When he woke up the next morning, he was itching to go show the others, head off immediately, find her _now_. But he knew the others would want to stay here a few days at least, get cleaned up, have access to some proper first aid, and most of all rest their minds and bodies. So he sat down at his personal desk computer and stuck the wedge into its drive. He felt slightly guilty, but she had _asked_ him to. He was going to… as Claire had put it, "tweak the smell." He almost didn't want to, because he didn't want to change Claire, but he knew that, logically, slightly altering one of the basic senses would not change a person's entire personality. He had to make sure it was the right level, though. He had to just make her indifferent towards his smell.

As he worked on the imprint, he realized that since he had the chance, he should probably be giving her fighting skills, so when they found her she'd have a better chance of surviving. But he couldn't bring himself to do that. He couldn't change her any more than she'd asked. Claire was smart. She'd want to_ learn_ how to fight. And he was sure Echo would be a more than willing teacher. So he left it.

With the smell issue sorted out, he unplugged the wedge and placed it back behind the panel where he had found it. Finally pulling himself away from the monitor, he headed down to the kitchen, where he knew the others would most likely be. In a complex this big, it had become their unofficial rendezvous point. Plus, it was where the food was.

He found Echo, Priya and Tony down there. Adelle was off having a shower and Ballard was… doing whatever it was that Ballard was always off doing.

It was Echo who spoke first. "Jeez, Topher, do you ever some out of that cave of yours? I saw you sleeping in there last night. Weirdo." She shot him a smile.

Topher didn't answer. He walked into the massive pantry and found cereal and powdered milk. It wasn't technically breakfast time but he had just woken up, so he didn't really care. He sat at the table opposite Priya, who smiled at him, and ate three huge mouthfuls. He wanted to wait until Ballard and Adelle were back, so he didn't have to repeat himself. Eventually they made their way back, by which time Topher had finished eating, and he began:

"I've got the monitor up and running. Claire's… as fine as she can be. She's in L.A. I haven't tracked any fast brain movement, so I think she might be Whiskey. But that's fixable."

Surprisingly, Topher thought, the others seemed as determined as he was to find and rescue Claire. He had thought they might take a bit of convincing. She was, after all, not a soldier, not a fighter, not an intelligence agent. She was just a Doll, just someone they knew. And there were plenty of those around: people they knew that had been wiped or reimprinted. He was desperate to see her again, that was true, but there had been plenty of times they'd had to make sacrifices. Surely, objectively, this mission was pointless.

But they must have seen his desperation. Of course they had noticed that he had barely slept until he knew she was safe. They would have to have been blind not to. During those two days he was restoring the equipment, they were all constantly trying to get him to take a break, have a shower, sleep for just a little while. They had told him:

"If she's there, she'll still be there in the morning, and if she isn't, there's nothing you could have done." He didn't believe them, of course. What if an hour of sleep made the difference between her life and death? What if he could have prevented it? But, with all their worries, they eventually left him to it, because they were his friends. That was why this mission was important, too; they knew he would never be satisfied until he had Claire back safely.

The gang made the trek up to the server room to see for themselves her vitals and to help Topher track the signal coming from her identi-chip. After about an hour of further repairs, they had a working, if not completely clear signal. It didn't matter too much though, because where the signal was coming from, there was only one warehouse within two miles; the rest was parklands. It could have been Claire sleeping rough, using the warehouse as shelter, but judging from the fact that her brain activity had not changed in more than two days, it was more likely Whiskey being kept by some of the people-herders that were around now. He had to hope she wasn't being exploited. It was probable, though, that they were just keeping her until they could find a wealthy, high-powered citizen they could sell her to.

Admittedly, they knew nothing about the warehouse. But it was unlikely that it was very well guarded, so they decided to make a basic plan, and think on their feet when they got there, which was Echo's strong point anyway.

They took a few days to arrange plans, make sure their bodies were in as good a shape as they could get them in, considering the ordeals they'd been through already, enjoy running hot water, and decide what to pack. They would only need supplies to last a few days, the warehouse wasn't far and they could commandeer a vehicle. The only problem would be getting through central L.A., so they would have to take a longer route around most of the city.

They were ready. And Topher was coming back with Claire, or not coming back at all.


	3. Chapter 3: The Rescue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

They were finally going, after five days of rest. Although they would have liked to have stayed longer, they knew that they were no back to their physical and mental peak, and staying any longer was indulgence, when they could be destroying tech. Or, now, rescuing Whiskey. Or Claire. Or whoever it was.

They had all also taken the opportunity to back themselves up. It seemed… hypocritical, but then, they were real people, and they weren't planning to imprint anyone else with themselves.

They had figured out a route through the sewers that would take them to the outskirts of L.A. There, they figured, they could steal a car and drive around the city, so hopefully they wouldn't get attacked by anyone.

It took them nearly four hours to get to the warehouse, with thankfully few disturbances. They had skilfully avoided a few situations that might have called for gunfire, and they stood outside the huge building, with their torches, looking at the locked door in front of them.

"We could always shoot it," suggested Tony. But they knew if there were any herders around, which there almost certainly were, they would find them immediately. So they circled the building, and found a smaller door with a thinner lock. This they could deal with.

"Who's got the bolt cutters?" asked Ballard. Priya turned around so he could unzip her pack. And then, because he was the biggest, with one great effort he snapped the cutters closed, severing the lock.

That was as high tech as the building got. Now the only problem was finding Claire, and possibly others, without being spotted by a guard. Undoubtedly there would be one here, but it was equally likely they might be asleep.

They decided to turn off their torches, making it less likely to be targeted, and edged across the smaller room until they came to a doorway. Echo had managed to come across night vision goggles during their journeys, but only one pair, which she wore, since she was the best fighter. The rest of them couldn't see anything but pitch-blackness.

Echo made her way across the room, while the others stood defensively, ready, but realistically vulnerable to any attack coming out of the darkness. They stood for what seemed half an hour, but could only have been a few minutes. Finally, Echo arrived back, and by this time they could make out figures, patches of blacker black in the darkness. There were three with her.

"They took some convincing," Echo said. "Seemed sure I had come to torture them or something. Luckily, I have a few sweet-talkers in here." She tapped her head. Topher felt something pressed into his hands. It was the goggles. He quickly put them on, eager to know why he had been given them, and his whole body flooded with warmth and relief. Claire was there. Claire was safe. Well, it was Whiskey, really, he could tell, but they had the body and the chip. That was all they needed.

Suddenly he felt something cold on the back of his neck, and heard the cock of a gun. Before he could do anything, the lights came on, and he was blinded. He scrambled to take off the goggles, and then, remembering that he was under immediate threat, threw them to the ground and put his hands up. What he hadn't seen yet was that they were surrounded by six men, four of whom had guns at the ready.

"Trying to steal our livelihood, are you?" asked the nastiest looking one.

Echo couldn't stop her tongue. "They're _people,_" she spat. "You bastards."

"Not anymore, they're not." And that was all he got to say, because Echo and Ballard started working their magic. By the end, three were unconscious, two had run away, and one, the leader had been tied up with a piece of rope Ballard had found in the corner.

They were making their way back out, with Whiskey and the two others, when they heard two shots fire. The herder who had been tied up had managed to free himself, and had shot the two he'd been holding captive along with Whiskey.

"I don't get them, nobody does." And he aimed for Whiskey's back. Echo launched herself at him, with Ballard not far behind. He was knocked over with a loud thump and dropped the gun. Echo proceeded to beat him to unconsciousness, and for good measure spat on him. They rushed to the wounded captives, but to no avail. They were done for. They didn't have any knowledge of even basic first aid, and they hadn't even tried to bock the blood flow. And then they were dead.

It was Adelle who spoke. "They were people. Whatever he said, they were people. They just couldn't find themselves, and that wasn't their fault. But we can't help them now, and we have to go and get Claire back."

Topher didn't even know how he saw it. But he did. He saw the man twitch and grab the gun, and then the world was in slow motion. He couldn't make a noise, but he found himself moving in front of Whiskey. He heard the shot sound, and then felt the ripping pain in his shoulder. And then he was running.

They decided to take the risk and drive all the way back. It would take them half an hour as opposed to four and Topher needed immediate medical attention. They wanted to give him an injection of painkillers, but were afraid they might make him drowsy, and they needed him to operate the chair.

They rushed into the Dollhouse, and half carried, half dragged Topher up the stairs to the imprint room and his office. Topher set up the chair, with help from Echo, and Adelle grabbed the wedge from behind the panel where Topher had left it. They sat Whiskey down, asked her to lie down, and set the controls to imprint, and pressed activate.

A minute later, Claire woke up. She looked up at Topher and sighed in relief. "Topher. You found me. I am me, right?" She looked at her reflection in the glass cabinet, and, satisfied, that she was in fact herself, looked back at Topher.

Then she noticed the shoulder. "You're hurt. Come with me." And she started down the stairs to her office.

**This chapter is dedicated to my very best friend Bec. Happy birthday sweetie!**


	4. Chapter 4: Home

Topher followed meekly. He had never been able to argue with Claire. Not direct orders, anyway. She had always had that power over him. They made their way to the room in silence. Neither of them knew what to say. What _could _you say, in a situation like this?

The medical office seemed a mile away, but that was probably more to do with the fact that his shoulder was in burning agony than the awkward silence. Claire opened the door for him, and gestured to the emanation table. "Hop up," she said.

He did so. She went to the storeroom and came back with a syringe. "Painkiller," she said simply, and jabbed him in the lower arm. He felt a cool flood of relief; the fire was gone. Claire assembled a tray with tweezers, blunt-ended scissors, a needle, and various other instruments, each of which Topher really didn't want digging around in his arm. Presumably, though, Claire knew what she was doing. Of course she did. He had made sure of that.

Claire swiftly set to work, and in a matter of minutes the bullet was on the tray and Topher's wound was being stitched up. Topher badly wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't work out how. How on earth was he going to explain how he felt, what he wanted her to know, what he wanted to know from her?

"What do you remember?" He asked gently.

"Too much. All of it. Rossum. They were coming to find me. I imprinted myself, and then I was going to run. I was going to find you guys, and join you. What happened to me?"

"We found you in a warehouse. You must have got taken by herders before Rossum found you. You were… you were fine. Sort of. You were Whiskey, and you were alive, and you had an imprint, and you're fine now, and I got your letter." It had all come tumbling out. Once he started talking, he couldn't stop, something he realised he'd never experienced before. He often intentionally rambled, to annoy people, but he'd never been able to not control his mouth.

Topher looked down at Claire, who was still focusing on her work, but had a silent tear rolling down her cheek. Topher pretended not to notice. Sometimes, he knew, it was better just to have a cry to yourself. She continued in silence.

Finally, the wound had been stitched up and bandaged. Claire went over to the sink to wash her hands. When she finished, she continued standing there, and after a while, Topher realised she was crying harder. The 'better-to-recognise-than-ignore' kind of crying. He stood up.

"Claire… I… How… I don't know what to…"

She turned around, and he could see that she was sobbing. He strode over, and she hid her face in his sweater vest. He wrapped his good arm around her, and they stood like that for a long moment.

Finally, he hesitantly asked "Are you OK?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "You smell good." And she gently pressed her lips to his. It was simple, quick, chaste, and over in a moment, but it said everything both of them had ever wanted to say, and it meant more to Topher than anything ever had before. _This is what life is about_, he thought. _This_ _is what makes us go_.

Claire had stopped crying, though she had not removed her face from his chest. She was gazing into space, lost in thought. Topher tucked a curl behind her ear, and she looked back up at him, with another dazzling smile.

She said softly: "I meant it. Every word. It took me so long to realise. It took me so long to sort out my thoughts, and work out exactly how to say them, but I think I basically summed it up."

"I don't think _that_ could ever be summed up in words."

Her smile turned into a cheeky grin. "One kiss? Topher Brink, master of wit and intelligence, stumped for words by one of _my_ kisses? I wouldn't have thought it possible."

He frowned playfully, and leaned down, placing his lips against hers once again. She was intoxicatingly beautiful, and he was finally _kissing her_. He couldn't deny now that he had been longing for this. His tongue slid into her mouth like it had always belonged there, and he was in heaven.

"Ahem." They were interrupted by the stern sound of Adelle DeWitt, but even she couldn't hide the smile on her face. "I see Topher's… feeling better now. Just wanted to make sure." And then, with more emotion than Topher had ever seen her show, she said quietly, "Dr. Saunders. It's good to have you back."


	5. Chapter 5: Bedtime

Day and night weren't really important in the Dollhouse, that far down, but the gang seemed to keep to a twenty-four hour schedule anyway. Traveling was best at night, and they wanted to be ready to go at a moment's notice, so at about ten every morning they dimmed the lights and shuffled off to the pods, and were awake at around six every evening. After the usual few hours of bleary 'breakfast,' they were supposed to be making tactical strategies, but, at the moment, they were just enjoying being safe and having Claire with them. They spent a lot of the time playing 'tactical' games with Topher's laser guns; even Adelle joined in. They spent hours talking about the most random of memories; they seemed so important now. When anyone could become nothing at any moment, everything needed to be documented, preserved.

Topher had never shared a bed (or pod, for that matter) before. Apart from the fact that he was generally not great with women, the job as head programmer had never really left him with much time to pursue them. He needed to be on hand twenty-four hours a day, and so he was. Not that the paycheck hadn't made up for it considerably. The first night he'd been out of the hospital bed (Claire had made him sleep in there, with herself on the floor), he hadn't wanted to be too forward in asking. Tony and Priya shared, but he wasn't sure if that meant he and Claire should.

He approached the pods silently. Claire, Priya and Ballard were already here. Tony took as long getting ready for bed as Adelle, and Echo was checking the security system, like she did every night. He stooped down to press the button to open the pod next to Claire's. That wasn't too eager, was it? She looked over in his direction and rolled her eyes.

"Come over here, stupid." 'Stupid' had become her affectionate nickname for him, because she knew he was anything but. "You're not going to corrupt me by sleeping in the same pod. I'm not completely naïve." She laughed, her tone lighthearted. He loped over and climbed in with her, and she drew his lips in a kiss. Priya spoke.

"Guys. None of that is happening in here. Ever, alright? Not where we all have to listen." Claire glanced over at her and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Priya couldn't help but giggle. Tony had just walked in, looking confused, and Claire burst into laughter as well. Topher smiled. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and he knew that sounded clichéd, but it was true.

"What? What did I miss? Are you laughing about me?" Tony always thought people were laughing about him. Priya thought it was endearing, but the rest of them assured him that it was just plain weird.

Priya beckoned for him to settle down into their pod, and he obediently walked over. Topher snuggled down closer to Claire, and Adelle and Echo were ready to get into their respective pods.

"Lights out." Echo called. She seemed to be the boss of when it was time to sleep, but no one contested. It didn't matter, anyway.

Claire gave him one final kiss, and then sank beside him. Before she closed her, eyes, though, she whispered:

"I love you."

Topher looked up at the grey ceiling of the Dollhouse, almost black in the darkness, lit only slightly by the insignificant glow emitted by the pods, and thought to himself, _yes, this is absolutely, most definitely, irrefutably the best moment of my life._

"I love you too."

"Oi! You two! The rest of us are trying to sleep. Keep it quiet in there." The shout came from Priya, and was followed by a chorus of laughter, a rare sound in this time and place. Topher and Claire found themselves chuckling along, and Claire pretended to groan.

"I _guess_ we could sleep. But when the alternative is so enticing…'' she trailed off, and smiled cheekily.

"If you're looking for alternatives, might I suggest that you two GET A ROOM? Priya and Tony have managed to be good so far." This came from Ballard.

Priya laughed suggestively. "Oh really, Ballard? Maybe you just haven't _noticed_." This was the usual banter that accompanied bedtime. It was the gang's way to unwind, but Echo finally became a little more serious.

"Come on, guys. Sleep. Night."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night."

Topher mused, as he fell into his dreams, about how much better it was to hear seven 'nights' instead of six. He slept with a smile.


End file.
